


And Another

by lavishsqualor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6373114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavishsqualor/pseuds/lavishsqualor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sam turns 29 and asks for public sex as a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Another

"Godda–" Dean cuts himself off with a fist to the mouth, teeth gnawing down on calloused knuckles. 

"That's right, Dean. Keep it down."

Sam bites along Dean's shoulder blade, and Dean holds back a whimper.

Dean's never been the greatest at _keeping it down_ , not in libraries or morgues, not in funeral homes, and especially not when he's in the middle of a near-life-altering fuck. 

But he'd told Sam he'd give him anything, _anything_ for his birthday, no ifs or buts. 

"Yeah, that's good," Sam whispers. How Sam can _whisper_ is beyond Dean. "Love this, you squirming on me, _for_ me."

Because when Sam had asked for sex, _in public_ , Dean pulling over into a highway picnic area and blowing his brains out hadn't sufficed. Once Sam had caught his breath, he'd sighed a _thanks but_ , and that's how they ended up in this movie theater. 

The smell of decades of underfoot-crushed, butter-drenched popcorn is faint but present, below the familiar scent that's all Sam. The floor is barely slanted; the seats are covered in some red velour, and they don't have high backs or armrests. Dean's alright with the lack of cup-carrying armrests, though—it affords them more room to stretch out. 

They're alone, yeah—it's a weekday matinee—but apparently it's the thrill of the _possibility_ of getting caught that Sam gets off on so hard. Dean's no prude, but what he really doesn't mind is how hot it gets Sam, all filthy words and grabby hands. 

Sam grips Dean's hips even tighter, lifts him up until only the head of his cock is keeping Dean open, and then slams him back down, and again. And again. 

Dean's barely holding on. He can't see it, regardless of the light flooding from the not-so-huge screen, but he knows that his fingers gripping the seat ahead of him are near white under the pressure. The words, the moans are bubbling on his tongue, kept back only by the tight seal of his lips. 

He lets a soft keening noise escape. 

"Yeah, Dean. That's it." Sam reaches around Dean to take a hold of his dick, sliding his tight grip up and down. When he flicks his thumb over the ridge, Dean can't hold back and he groans low. "That's it, I've got ya." Up and down, a rub over the head to gather the wet, another flick of thumb. "Come on, now, Dean. Come for me." 

And Dean does.

The dark theater goes darker as Dean's eyes shutter closed and his world focuses down to the throb of his dick and the pulsing release of Sam inside of him. 

Dean wonders how Sam's birthday sex somehow afforded _him_ the best orgasm he's had since sometime before the apocalypse.


End file.
